Two I Really Like.

Herald

Hark!

The call of Spring

sounds

in the little forsythia bells

on the windswept hill.

Madge Hall

March 18, 1940

Reverie

The firelight sends little flickers

Up and down the darkened walls of the room

And I lie in a downy feather-bed

And think of my childhood,

And sliding down pine-straw hills

on barrel sleds, and play houses,

And Christmases when Santa Claus

Came down the big living room chimney

And brought surprises and candy canes,

And days when I went to see my grandparents,

And running away from home,

And climbing tall trees, and the day

My aunt came home from New York

With a trunk full of queer dresses and jewelry,

And visiting cousins and eating fried chicken for breakfast

And going to church on Sunday nights in an old buggy,

And my first sweetheart, --

And as the firelight slowly flickers away

My thoughts cease and I am asleep.

Tomorrow I shall have forgotten that I ever remembered

Or was sad because those days are gone.

Madge Hall

March 20, 1940